


Of Pillows and Politics

by nightmare_elmst



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: (just for hamilton), Crack, Dystopia, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hamilton - Freeform, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Politics, References to Supernatural (TV), Time Travel, assassin cult, in case you couldn't tell from every other tag, my pillow, one-sided Bill Nye/Donald Trump, pillows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 16:34:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17811542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmare_elmst/pseuds/nightmare_elmst
Summary: In a dystopian world where Donald Trump became president, can Mike Lindell  (The My Pillow Guy) and Bernie Sanders find love while trying to save the world from their president? Join them and their close friends (Assassin cult) as they try to save America from itself.(The people that have read this either love it or hate it there is no inbetween)





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> You can also read this on wattpad, same title, same account name.

"And that's a wrap. Great commercial, Mike!" The camera man flashed him the "thumbs up" from the other side of the stage. "Those pillows are going to sell like hotcakes!"

"Thanks, camera man...I should probably learn your name." Mike smiled weakly at him.

His life had always been devoted to pillows and giving people the best night's sleep in the whole wide world. It was what he lived for. The joy on his customer's faces, the happiness and pride he felt knowing that people were sleeping soundly...thanks to him. 

But it wasn't the same. His mind had been drifting from pillows...to something else. 

Perhaps dentistry? No. That was weird.

Acupuncture? That was worse. 

Now that he recalled, it all began on November 8 of 2016. Now when was that...?

Then it hit him like one of his pillows. Except this pillow was filled with rocks, not love. 

That was the day Donald Trump was elected president.

That was the day the world turned upside down. The once peaceful Obama-land was shattered like glass. Nothing was ever the same without good ol' Barrack there. 

Mike left work with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He barely had the energy to make himself a cup of ramen for dinner that night. 

It had been a few weeks since his wife left. Perhaps that, and the Trump-landia that had been thrust upon the earth, was what made him feel so down. He wanted someone to love, but alas, there was just no lifting his spirits. 

He snuggled into bed with his mountains of My Pillows. They were what kept his soul afloat, somewhat, though the joy had mostly left. 

It was hard to fall asleep. His thoughts haunted him. But when he finally surrendered to the night's embrace, he jolted awake to a sharp poke in his side. 

Standing before him was a group of cloaked, masked figures. He jumped back in shock. 

"Wh-who are you people?! And how did you get into my house?" He shrieked. 

No one said a word. A man (Or he felt like a man, at least. A tender, handsome man) lifted his soft finger to Mike's temple. 

And with that, the world turned black.


	2. My True Love

When he awoke, he could not move-his arms were restricted. They were tied down by scratchy hemp rope. He could not see-a silk blindfold covered his eyes. He could only feel. Feel the cold air on his skin, and the panic! he felt upon realizing that he was far from home. 

¨...Hello?" His voice came out as a raspy sort of whisper. 

"Ah," came a man's voice. "So he's finally awake."

When the blindfold was removed, a shorter man stood before him. The first thing he noticed about him was his eyes-eyes like sunshine through a glass of whiskey. His golden hair was lightly tossed, and he wore a mischievous smirk through the lollipop sticking out the corner of his mouth. By all means, he was handsome-but Mike felt no spark, only fear. 

"Nice to meet you. I'd shake your hand, but it looks like you're a bit...tied up. They call me Gabriel."

Mike tilted his head. "The comedian?"

"No, the archangel," He sighed. "But they called me 'trickster' for quite awhile."

Mike glared at him. "Where am I?"

"Hmm, I'd tell you, but it's probably not my place. Hey, babe! C'mere!"

A taller man stepped into view. He had a handsome face, the most beautiful hair he had ever seen on a person. Eyes that sparkled with happiness, but had true despair underneath. Who was it? Well, who could it be, other than the one and only...

"44th president of the United States, Barrack Obama?!" Mike gaped. "Jeepers! It's you in the flesh!"

He nodded, a cool and confident air to his smile. "Yeah, that's me. Or what I used to be..." There was a cold, bitter tone to his voice. "I left that life behind along with my wife and kids. She got remarried to Ronald McDonald. Now I'm with Gabriel, and honestly, I couldn't be more blessed."

Obama grinned at Gabriel, as if they were sharing a joke. "Honey?" He called. "Where's my super suit?"

He heard the clack of high heels before he saw her figure. Hillary Clinton strode into the room, glaring at Obama. "I'm not your honey-"

"I am." Gabriel raised his hand, a goofy smile on his face. 

"And it looks like our new member is finally awake."

New member?

"Bernie! Get in here and meet him!"

(Cue "Careless Whisper")

And then he saw it. The face of beauty. The man who would change his life forever. He took his breath away from the first glance. 

Bernie Sanders.


	3. The Cult

It took Mike a moment to collect himself. His mind was racing with a thousand thoughts, but all of them contained the single word: Bernie. 

Bernie was stunning. Absolutely gorgeous. A beauty. 

He cursed himself for only seeing his looks. Was he so blinded by lust? Would physical appearances be all he saw in this man?

Mike had voted for him. Yes, remember everything about him-his cunning, his kindness. His toned body, his soulful eyes, his perfect-

No! Not again!

"Hello, Mike. I'm Bernie Sanders. But please, call me Berns."

He's the kindest man alive! 

Then he remembered the more pressing issue. He was tied to a chair in the middle of a group of strangers. 

"T-Tell me why I'm here!" He demanded. His voice was harsh and unkind, different than his many infomercials. Bernie was shocked by this, and took a step back. But he could not help but be intrigued by this man's fire. His passion. His beautiful mustache. 

Bernie held his hands up in a sort of surrender. "You want answers. I'll give them to you."

And honest, too! Ack-I'm getting sidetracked again. 

"We are a cult devoted to the downfall of Donald J Trump."

"The downfall?"

"Yeah, so here's the thing," Gabriel cut in. "None of us here like old DJ Trump. We liked Obama, better-"

"Word."

"-Thanks babe. So the only way to get rid of him is to, well, assassinate him. We've picked up on how unhappy you are with the election's outcomes. So we want you on our side. And if you don't think we're legit, just talk to our man on the inside."

Man on the inside?

"William. Sanford. Nye."

(Cue Bill Nye theme song)

The lights flickered off, and the room went black as pitch. A moment later, the flickered on again. Standing by his side was none other than Bill Nye The Science Guy himself. 

"Bill?! Is that really you?!"

"It sure is," He winked. "I may or may not have started an affair with the president-hey, don't make that face-so he tells me all the information we need."

That was actually...very cool. 

"So will you join us?" Bernie's intense gaze bore into him. Mike shivered. "We need you. You may be our only hope."

He had the chance to leave. He could have said goodbye and rid himself of the cult, and saving the world, and Bernie...and Bernie. Bernie had stolen his heart from the moment he laid eyes on him in person. He had the golden opportunity for love right in front of him. A chance that was small, but for Mike, it meant everything-perhaps more than his pillows. 

He nodded. His journey had only just begun.


	4. Feel The Bern

It had been a few days since Mike had joined the cult. He was intrigued by everyone he had met, but there was no one that compared to Bernie Sanders. 

He was flawless. Kind, yet strong and handsome. Mike wanted nothing more than to talk to this perfect being...alone. 

But how am I going to work up the courage? All I know is how to give the best night's sleep in the whole wide world. 

"Hey there!" A voice cracked from behind him. 

Mike spun around. "Bill! You're back. Don't scare me like that."

"Sorry, buddy-o-mine," He shrugged. "Yup, I'm back from ol' Trumpy's place. No new info, though. But...I see the way you gaze at Bernie. Those eyes filled with love and passion. You sure are feeling the Bern."

Mike went bright red. "I-I don't...I don't have feelings for Bernie, even if he is the most perfect human ever to walk this earth!"

Bill shook his head, laughing. "You don't fool anybody. Except for Bernie. He's oblivious. More than a rock. But I bet he likes you, too. Just go to him."

He smiled and walked away. Bernie was leaning against a balcony that overlooked the sunset. 

"Hey there."

Bernie turned around, surprise. When he saw Mike, his face split into a grin. "Mike, it's you. Stand next to me."

Mike happily did so. 

"I have one of your pillows," Bernie said. "They really do give me the best night's sleep in the whole wide world."

Wow, really? He's amazing.

"Th-Thank you. I...I really hope they did give you the best night's sleep in the whole wide world."

"They did...they really did give me the best night's sleep in the whole wide world. So Mike, I feel like I don't know you enough. Talk to me."

And so they talked, for what felt like hours. Because it was. They talked about everything, from their lives, to politics, to how soft yet firm these patented My Pillows were. They just really did give the best night's sleep in the whole wide world. 

Through all of their conversation, Mike's heart was pounding. In the heat of the moment, he said something that would change his life forever. 

"B-Bernie! I-I love you!"

The shock on his face was evident. He tried to smile kindly, but he failed. Mike instantly regretted his words. 

"Mike, I'm sorry, but..."

But Mike was walking away. "F-Forget it! Pretend this never happened! I'll see you later, Bernie!"

"Mike, wait-!"

He was gone. He left Bernie, alone. Alone with the dark of the night and the ache in his heart. He wanted to love Mike. He wanted it more than anything. 

But how can a candidate, betrayed by his country, learn to love again?


End file.
